


The Shadow Filtering From Under Closed Doors

by SquirrelCavalry



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: BDSM, Completely Consensual, Dominant Cloud Strife, Hair Pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Semen tasting/eating, Sounding, Strong Language, Submissive Sephiroth (Compilation of FFVII), Testicular bindings, Urethral Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquirrelCavalry/pseuds/SquirrelCavalry
Summary: An AU where Cloud Strife is Midgar's most sought-after and meticulous professional dominant. General Sephiroth takes notice.*Notes: Chapter 3 is in Sephiroth's POV, also 'Strong Language' tag added*-=Special thanks to Iciseria and TheGoldenAppleofAsgard for beta and gatekeeping.=-
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 98
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

Cloud Strife paused at the first of many concrete stairs that led up to the base of the Shinra headquarters building then canted his head back to observe the impressive, imposing structure. The young man, in his mid-twenties, pulled out a small, folded piece of paper from his pocket. Contained within were instructions on where to meet his awaiting client along with his specified _preferences._  
  
Cloud narrowed his eyes intently as he reviewed the contents of the paper in his hand. The directions were simple enough, but those preferences… He was having a hard time believing the selections were genuine. He _never_ had a client check _every single box_ before. He could not even administer the multitude of those requests in a single session. Equally pondering but even more troubling was the ‘safe word’ box left empty and the ‘restraint’ material answered as ‘none’.  
  
His client was either impossibly arrogant or exponentially foolish. Thinking back, he has had his handful of hotshots throughout the years who had believed that they did not need to be bound. Those sessions almost always ended up devolving quickly, leaving an aggravated Cloud trying to salvage the client’s experience. Lacking a safe word was just as irritating and problematic.  
  
Grimacing with ire at the paper, he realized that just _one_ of those answers would have irked Cloud to no end, but the lofty combination? It felt like someone was purposely wasting his time. It did not curtail his souring impression that this meeting had been completely set up through minimal online exchanges, which was also a red flag. He did not even know his client’s name – a third red flag. Usually, he appreciated at least speaking verbally with an applicant before a session was confirmed. It was important to directly ask pointed questions to better gauge their desires, especially if he was to meet them at their specified location considering he had to bring the requested equipment _to them._  
  
He was heavily considering dropping this appointment completely, but that would be unprofessional. Deciding to at least meet with the client and ask about the oddity of the questionnaire answers, he folded the paper neatly and placed it back into a pocket before he began making his way into the lobby.  
  
Cloud looked innocuous enough; he wore baggy cargo pants and a long-sleeved turtleneck sweater, and in his right hand he carried a plump duffle bag. Anyone looking at him would assume he was a spunky kid coming back from the gym or athletic practice, but his intentions were a little less benign.  
  
With a huffed-out sigh, he paused in front of the massive, lengthy directory before scrolling a finger down the list of names while recalling the room address. He had no issue servicing his patrons in a location of their choice, typically their own abodes, which many first-time enthusiasts would request. It was far more comfortable for the client to be serviced in an environment that was familiar to them; it took some of their initial anxiety away.  
  
An eyebrow quirked in intrigue when his eyes found the hunted room number; the inhabitant’s name was left blank. It was a loft on one of the uppermost floors. He did not think he could even gain access to that area without security clearance. His patron was someone with clout.  
  
_Interesting._  
  
The receptionist smiled pleasantly at him as he approached the counter.  
  
“Cloud Strife, here for an appointment,” he said casually.  
  
If pressed further, the same answer would be repeated. He was not going to betray the more delicate nature of his visit; he took discretion and customer confidentiality very seriously. If pressed beyond that, he would just leave. If his client could not even properly prepare his way, then he was offensively negligent and sloppy – not worth Cloud’s time.  
  
It did not have to come to that, in fact, the receptionist was ready for his name and eager to assist him. She handed him a keycard and gave him brief but adequate directions of where and how to arrive at his destination. After thanking her politely, he moved swiftly to the nearest elevator, never deviating from his path nor even glancing around. He was here as a professional, not a tourist ogling at the pretty colors and lights. He had a job to do.  
  
Keycard beeped as it was swiped, and Cloud was treated to an ever increasingly vast view of the surrounding city. As the glass elevator kept climbing, the view became ever more remarkable, the dramatic stretch of human engineering extraordinary. Cloud had never seen Midgar from so high up; this was the first time he was contacted to perform a service in the Shinra building, let alone allowed to ascend to its top floors reserved only for the most influential.  
  
Cloud was willing to share his expertise with anyone willing to appreciate his talent and respect his statutes, but he had to admit that it felt nice to have _arrived_ , to be in high demand and sought after, to have a reputation precede him and be noticed, apparently now by the very powerful among the city’s denizens.  
  
The elevator opened introducing Cloud to a long hallway with only a few doors, each one likely leading to a massive apartment if those were the only habitations on the entire floor.  
  
Standing outside the most prominent entryway, he pulled out the folded piece of paper from his pocket and corroborated its contents with both the keycard and the door number. This was the residence.  
  
There was no reason to be nervous; if anything, Cloud was irritated because of the secretive circumstances surrounding this arrangement. Caution and consideration of his client’s identity and wishes were always on the forefront of his mind, but such a high degree of covertness with him made the engagement far more difficult than necessary.  
  
He had been given instructions by the client to enter when he arrived, so without delay, and with a gentle flick of his wrist, the keycard was passed through the reader, and with a soft chime of acceptance, unbarred his way.  
  
He was not prepared for what waited for him on the other side calmly and patiently with fervid intensity.  
  
The very first thing Cloud noticed the moment he stepped in through the door was a pair of profound, sharp eyes that glimmered surreally like ethereal emeralds, watching him ardently with fascinated amusement and veiled appetite.  
  
Cloud’s breath caught in his throat with a sharp inhale, his wide eyes wavering and rapidly focusing and unfocusing in disbelief; a shiver of electricity caused every tiny hair on his body to stand on end, and his knees nearly buckled, because a little distance away, slightly reclined upon the knuckles of his left hand, comfortably laying a left ankle across a right knee, perched in a plush chair like a prize-fighting champion, _wearing nothing but a luxurious bathrobe_ , was the object of his most secret and hidden fantasies – First-Class SOLDIER and war hero Sephiroth.  
  
_Sephiroth._  
  
His mind flushed blank and his hand relaxed in shock, causing the duffle bag to drop abruptly and non-too gently upon the floor. The abrasive sound snapped him out of his daze, and he realized with horror that he had been gaping like a star-struck idiot.  
  
_Fool. Play it off like you meant to drop it, quickly!_  
  
His mind screamed at him to salvage his poor first impression.  
  
Cloud was grateful that his spiky, saffron hair was long and wild enough to cover his distraught face as he fluidly dropped to a knee beside his duffle bag to survey the contents. The inspection of the items was not just for show; he was terribly flustered and unsure of the equipment he had brought. What did he possibly bring with him that could properly service such a magnificent creature? His mind was racing so quickly he could barely concentrate on breathing regularly.  
  
_Sephiroth._  
  
This was an apex predator, a predator that effortlessly _ate other predators_ , a god of a man who was without equal. Cloud’s blood pressure had skyrocketed while he struggled to devise any semblance of a plan of action.  
  
_Relax._  
  
_He contacted you, remember?_  
  
_He wanted a taste of your skill because your execution, your technique, your polished thoroughness and meticulousness is unrivaled. This isn’t arrogance, this is the truth. You know your competition in the region, and no one else comes close to your dedication to the craft._  
  
_Now, don’t you dare insult him with anything less than a stellar performance._  
  
_He deserves your best._  
  
_Calm down and think._  
  
Cloud’s little pep talk was helpful in rallying his spirits, but it did nothing to bring him any closer to real answers on how to proceed. His thoughts kept wandering around. It was just so unusual and foreign to his mental capacity to envision Sephiroth enjoying being at the receiving end of a professional dominant. He had always assumed that the sheer size of the other’s ego would never allow him to be at the mercy of another for pleasure.  
  
_That is not for you to judge. Focus._  
  
And focus he did. It dawned on him why Sephiroth’s questionnaire was answered how it was. Marking every check box? That was either a challenge or a statement. A challenge as if to say, _‘There is nothing you can do that will phase me’_ , or a statement as if to say, _‘I’m game for anything; surprise me and keep me guessing’_. The answer of ‘none’ for the restraint material now made plenty of sense as well – as if Cloud could bind Sephiroth in anything that he could not pull apart like perforated tissue paper. And for the absence of a safe word? That also could be taken in one of two ways. Either it went along with the challenge, Sephiroth believing he would never need to stop Cloud’s meager attempts, or it was something far more provocative – Sephiroth wishing for the illusion that there would be no mercy.  
  
But of course that would be just an illusion; there was nothing Cloud ever did that did not get the explicit consent from his clients, nor did he ever truly harm his patrons, _not really_ ; their care was his top concern, and besides, Sephiroth was _not to be bound._  
  
With that acknowledgment, he became hesitant. Was Sephiroth planning on submissively holding the positions Cloud placed him in? This made Cloud very nervous. The First-Class SOLIDER’s strength was legendary. All it would take was a reflexive jolt from Sephiroth to accidentally break Cloud’s arm in three places _or worse_. But with careful consideration, Cloud realized that if _anyone_ could hold a position indefinitely through duress, it was Sephiroth.  
  
With his thoughts finally in order and a plan forming, he stood up swiftly and glanced over at his benefactor, hoping the man had not grown terribly bored from the inaction. Sephiroth had not moved an inch. He looked like a divine statue being displayed in the expansive studio amid modern décors. The only thing that betrayed that he was not carved from flawless alabaster was his eyes. They gleamed as he attentively watched and waited with calm but unmistakable anticipation.  
  
Confident that he still held the man’s full attention, Cloud’s hands gripped the waist hem of his long sleeve turtleneck and pulled it over his head, exposing the second set of attire hidden shrewdly beneath.  
  
His petite frame was lithe, but every inch of his milky, opaline build was absolutely chiseled. The array of taut, toned musculature was only accentuated by a black leather bulldog harness that crossed over his well-defined chest to emphasize his stunning physique. A matching choker fitted snug around his neck which was adorned with a delicate silver chain that hung down between pectorals and joined a silver ring fastened to the middle of the harness. Additional thin chains were also attached to the central ring, the multitude of them draped down across abdomen and hips like gently swinging spider webs and came around to clip at his back into a ring in the middle of his shoulder blades. The baggy cargo slacks he wore were large enough to pull down and slip over boots, disclosing tight, glossy black leather pants in their absence. With two button snaps, his black gloves were fastened into place, and his ensemble was complete.  
  
At this point, Sephiroth gracefully stood from his over-cushioned armchair and made his way to the middle of the room. Cloud had never seen him without his dramatic regalia on, but his form was no less stunning. Even dressed in a simple bathrobe, the man commanded every ounce of Cloud’s regard, as if his life would be the lesser if he missed capturing even a single sway from such a celestial being. There was just something so sovereign, dignified, and elegant as well as powerful, alluring, and masculine about Sephiroth. It was such an incredible combination.  
  
With a gentle roll of his shoulders, the bathrobe glided down well-defined curvature and was slowly lowered to dip then pool around his ankles, introducing an exquisite and completely nude body of ivory. What a breathtaking sight. Every athletic dip and valley were immaculate and without a single blemish despite Sephiroth’s intense battle experience. Long, angelic silver strands flowed and careened down his back and brushed against muscular thighs while errant locks of hair caressed across a perfectly sculpted abdomen. At the moment, Sephiroth was flaccid, but even so, was extremely well endowed, and Cloud could not help but appreciate that the beautiful silver that cascaded across his form was also present in a patch that traveled in a tiny trail up to his naval.  
  
Then the unexpected: like a majestic being, Sephiroth sank gracefully to his knees, silently, unabashedly, amid the bundle of discarded robes; his gaze passively settling on the floor before him.  
  
How many times had Cloud struggled with clients that did not know what they wanted or were too shy to even begin a session? But here, there was nothing hesitative about Sephiroth. Cloud was present as a competent dominant, but it was Sephiroth that was leading the exchange and propelling the venture brazenly forward.  
  
Amid being enamored watching perfection kneel before him, an epiphany struck. Cloud understood; he understood it all, which was one of the reasons he excelled in this profession. He understood that hidden, dark desire that reveled in a little bit of threat; he understood the thrill of surrendered control, even for a short time – to just release everything and have someone else have full authority for a change.  
  
Sephiroth was an unequaled force of nature, brimming with fortitude, his physique unbendable, his very image worshiped like a god – just showing up to battle was often all that was needed for entire platoons to surrender at his feet. Wherever Sephiroth went he was hounded by the overbearing attention, the swooning, the constant interviews and articles and photoshoots, the discomfort of seeing his image plastered all over Midgar and beyond, the legions of adoring, gushing fans, and his subordinates tripping over themselves to please him, and even his own superiors kowtowing to his misspoken impulses and having to constantly be mindful of the words he chose _lest they all acted upon them_ , and for once, _for once_ , to not have everyone else fall before him, to clear his mind and not think of a single urgent thing, for someone to cater to him and not fret the consequences, to finally let go completely if only for a moment, _was absolutely liberating_.  
  
_I understand._  
  
_You’re in good hands, Sephiroth._  
  
Now came the question on how he was to proceed. He was still concerned about Sephiroth’s positioning and how to maintain it. The sole of Cloud’s boot was very gently placed on the inside of Sephiroth’s right thigh with just enough pressure applied to hint at a command, and even though Cloud was experimentally testing the waters with expectation, he was still in awe when the unspoken demand was obeyed without question and Sephiroth spread his right leg apart, _but not both legs_ , because Cloud had _only_ requested his right leg to move.  
  
_Obedient. Incredible._  
  
Just the slightest prodding was needed for Sephiroth to spread out his left leg as well.  
  
They seemed to be working on the same wavelength; not a single word had been spoken between them, yet Sephiroth needed only the most minimal of training to understand Cloud’s cues.  
  
Cloud slowly walked around Sephiroth to take a brief survey, deciding what would be the best posture to place the man in, assuming he would hold it continuously under his own power. Standing behind Sephiroth, Cloud lowered himself to claim a large right wrist that rested comfortably on Sephiroth’s right thigh. The appendage of solid muscle was heavy and had a diameter as robust as two of Cloud’s arms put together. At first it was dead weight and difficult to move, but as Cloud’s intentions became clearer, Sephiroth quickly conformed and followed the motions as his arm was pulled behind his gorgeously hewed, broad back. With Cloud’s gentle urging, the left arm shortly followed as Sephiroth pulled his arms behind him, simulating being bound, and with firm pressure to both arms to indicate Cloud’s intentions, Sephiroth’s muscles locked forearms solidly in place as if they had been soldered together by iron slag.  
  
Sephiroth’s ethereal hair had pooled around his kneeling form, and Cloud was not reserved to satisfy one of his own childhood fantasies; he reached a gloved hand out to candidly drift between the beautiful tributaries that flowed to the floor like a stunning, silver waterfall. For a moment, Cloud was wholly enraptured, captivated by how the locks swayed, slid, and entwined between his fingers, how each strand shimmered like platinum when the light caught it just right, how the whole exquisite mane gave off the faintest hint of a sweet aroma, but guilt quickly crept up and halted his shameless exploration of the magnificent filaments.  
  
_Focus._  
  
Now with direct purpose, Cloud’s hand swam up that splendid cascade before fingers gently depressed into the scalp and were lightly drawn backward until Sephiroth's gaze was tilted slightly up toward the ceiling. Fore and middle fingers were then softly dragged across exotic green to pull the lids down, closing eyes with lashes long enough to cast tiny shadows across alabaster cheeks.  
  
_Breathtaking._  
  
For now, this position was adequate for Cloud’s purposes.  
  
Cloud broke the silence with a rigid warning spoken low and with strong, biting intent.  
  
“If you move from any position I place you in without my consent, involuntary or not, this session immediately ends.”  
  
This was not something Cloud was willing to compromise on. Sephiroth was too strong, too dangerous, and more than capable of snapping Cloud’s spine with an errant blow. It was an extreme risk to his person to even continue this session as is, and he was probably insane for going forward with it, but if he were being honest, Cloud was practically spellbound already – as if Cloud could stop himself.  
  
Now for the actual rules. There were always rules that had to be followed, rules that needed to be disclosed verbally and enforced by punishment if necessary.  
  
“You do not look at me, you do not address me, _you do not speak_. You are allowed to do nothing on your own – _nothing_ – except moan under your severe desperation.”  
  
_You didn’t want a safe word, Sephiroth. Now, show me the strength of your resolve._


	2. Chapter 2

  
After the barbed threat and the brief, sharp decrees, Cloud Strife calmly quieted himself and patiently waited for any comment, suggestion, request, disagreement, or even feisty indignation – for any response at all from his client – but there was nothing except for the deep, rhythmic breathing that accentuated Sephiroth’s stunning, sculptured musculature with each gentle roll and ripple.  
  
Cloud wanted to become more acquainted with the other’s divine body, to roam his gloved hands across every inch of luscious surface, to dip his tongue into the crevice of every chiseled valley, to firmly rake fingers across every flexed muscle and revel in any sort of quiver of resistance, but Cloud noticed that Sephiroth’s once flaccid length began to display hints of arousal, his body acknowledging that the session had already begun, leaving Cloud the pressing need to move quickly and forgo lingering upon his imagination’s baser desires.  
  
_Stay professional. Stop fantasizing._  
  
It was already difficult for Cloud to focus and he had yet to perform even a single service.  
  
He repositioned himself to rest on his knees at Sephiroth’s right side while leaning over to drag his stuffed duffle bag close until it settled within immediate distance. For his own peace of mind, he reached into the bag to retrieve the preference questionnaire that was tucked in a pocket of his folded cargo pants. He reviewed it intently, scouring the entire sheet as if studying for an exam. Was his memory correct and truly every box was checked? Cloud wanted to be certain, but when his eyes scanned to confirm what he already knew, it only confounded him further.  
  
To check every box was just as helpful to Cloud as to leave every box _unchecked_. It frustratingly gave him zero direction to his client’s actual desires.  
  
_Does Sephiroth truly not have any preferences for his pleasure?_  
  
_What kind of attention does he favor?_  
  
_What does this god enjoy?_  
  
Even an indication on where Sephiroth would have liked Cloud to start would have been immensely useful.  
  
The questionnaire’s purpose was multifold: to expose the client to Cloud’s immense catalog, to spark their curiosity or imagination, to give them insight to exciting new avenues for them to explore – things they might not even know existed, but most importantly, to give Cloud notion on what route to take from the endless possibilities; but looking at this list now, he struggled to gain any inspiration.  
  
This celestial creature before him was a blank canvas, and Cloud was suffering from severe artist’s block.  
  
Cloud realized that he could just ask Sephiroth, but that could be easily seen as weakness, and at no point could he afford to lose his assertive advantage.  
  
With mind in turmoil, eyes flicked back over to his obedient, silent client to wander his perfect form in contemplation. It was during this roam that he noticed Sephiroth’s impressive shaft becoming engorged.  
  
_Was he enticed by me looking over that list? Did the anticipation of what was to occur excite him?_  
  
Being spurred on swiftly by a spark of sudden enthusiasm, and deciding rapidly upon his methods, Cloud had no time to ponder Sephiroth’s reaction because he had to act immediately lest Sephiroth grew fully enlarged.  
  
Cloud rifled through his bag with directed purpose. He found and retrieved a small coil of thin leather line before eyeing the other intently, a spark of impulse glinting in excited sapphire.  
  
He had no intentions of restraining Sephiroth, but that did not mean bindings could not be used in other ways. After all, _that box had_ been checked.  
  
With an approach clearly envisioned, Cloud reached out towards his client, but hesitation delayed his hand and wary eyes snapped up to survey the other with unease. Sephiroth had yet to break from the kneeling position he had been placed in, as unmoving as bedrock – arms still clasped behind his back of his own volition, his head still slightly tilted upward, his eyes still meekly closed.  
  
_Why are you nervous again? He is waiting. Get to it._  
  
Cloud’s left hand reached out to delicately claim Sephiroth’s genitalia and cupped the testicles tenderly in his palm. The man’s package was striking, a slightly deeper shade of pearl than the rest of his body, beautifully tear-shaped, and with a fullness to them that filled the entirety of Cloud’s hand. Even from a gentle caress, most would be jittery after such an intimate and sensitive area was touched and fear it being violated, but here, the flesh Cloud nestled in his fingers did not betray even the faintest of shivers; Sephiroth’s stable breathing pattern did not even waver.  
  
With a steady but mindful downward pressure applied, Cloud slowly stretched Sephiroth’s skin enough to twine a long leather strip snugly around the scrotum above the testicles which also received individual attention; both were separated and swathed individually so that they were still exposed but bound, isolated, and taut. Fingers moved to the base of his shaft, wrapping it tightly and thoroughly with the leather cord so that the rest of his length was revealed, but the root firmly impeded. With the small bit of leather remaining, Cloud encircled a heavy ring right beneath the glans and then pulled firmly before knotting, finalizing Sephiroth’s restrictive confinement.  
  
As Sephiroth continued to grow aroused, the bindings dug into him deeper still, constricting flesh and causing the inflamed and tumid member to overexert heavily against the leather enclosing him. The moment Cloud finished his task, Sephiroth was fully swollen, the stiff member straining against the wrappings so vigorously that they creaked dangerously, threatening to snap. Cloud’s eyes suddenly grew wide with the foreshadowing that the leather might not hold.  
  
_No way… no way he breaks through that with just an erection, right?_  
  
Leather in peril objected noisily again, risking a complete failure.  
  
Cloud acknowledged that the strip was thin… but no one should be able to do that… to just bust right out of such a preparation.  
  
_Everyone knows SOLDIERs are tough, but shit…_  
  
_What exactly am I dealing with here?_  
  
He had used the entirety of his leather cordage in that one fitting and had brought no additional restraints with him because of the client’s request, leaving Cloud scrambling to think of any additional measures he could take before everything was disrupted. Suddenly an epiphany – he had small, silver chains dangling from his own attire. They were probably at least just as strong as the leather; perhaps if he doubled down over the wrappings, they would hold.  
  
Moving quickly, Cloud unfastened one of the chains from his harness and coiled it securely upon the leather already in place around the base of Sephiroth’s shaft, where most of the strain seemed to have originated. With metal rigidly fixed over leather, the ominous creaking quieted.  
  
Cloud had to use a lot of willpower not to sigh in relief.  
  
With a brief glance to his client, he swore he caught just the hint of a smirk from Sephiroth before it faded. He probably should have been irked about that, about his client finding amusement with Cloud’s struggle to constrain him, but he could not bring himself to be upset.  
  
_I guess if I had a penis that could break through leather bindings, I would be arrogant about it too._  
  
He took a moment to gander at Sephiroth’s massive length that looked even more beautiful with tight restraints decorating its stunning girth, tip, and testicles like a work of fine art. The way the light glinted off burnished silver metal, contrasting with dark matte leather, and both up against creamy alabaster perfection was breathtaking.  
  
_Radiant._  
  
This was something his client might appreciate too.  
  
“You may have free reign of your neck and sight,” Cloud interrupted the silence.  
  
Said in hopes that Sephiroth took in the spectacle of his preparation. And of course, he did, eyeing it with curiosity.  
  
The blonde gazed over his handiwork with dark fancy and mused that in this state, Sephiroth might have great difficulty climaxing for a long time, especially if teased slowly. There was a high chance that Cloud would have to heavily stimulate him or edge him until he was mind-numbingly desperate for there to be any hope of sexual release, and even then, it could end in a terribly painful ruined orgasm.  
  
While his heavy gaze scrutinized his client and planned for his affliction, a bead of pre-cum seeped up, despite the many rigid wrappings, and threatened to roll off the tip. Sephiroth must have enjoyed looking at his bindings and the way Cloud was eyeing him cruelly.  
  
Cloud bent down quickly to catch the droplet before it could weep free, collecting the quivering liquid upon the tip of his forefinger. Cloud was a pristine taskmaster and respected his client’s abodes and their health, thus he aimed at always keeping things clean, orderly, and hygiene sensitive.  
  
He looked fondly upon that drop. As much as he eagerly desired to taste Sephiroth in this manner, to savor the other man’s essence, he decided against the crass and favored the more acceptably adept and erotic solution.  
  
Without warning, his free hand tangled up into silver and jerked back quickly, snapping Sephiroth’s head up to focus his attention while presenting his tainted index finger a breath’s distance from the other’s lips.  
  
Sephiroth looked stunned from the harsh, sudden movement, but he mellowed almost immediately and accepted Cloud’s offering without hesitation.  
  
The tip of his gloved finger that carried Sephiroth’s seed was gently placed into his awaiting mouth and was rolled across his tongue, petting, pressing, and stroking the moist muscle in lavish, authoritative glides.  
  
Cloud always wore leather to separate his skin from his client’s, a constant barrier and reminder to himself and to them that he was not their lover nor was he there for his own pleasure. But in this unique instance, for once, Cloud wished he was not wearing gloves.  
  
While he was mourning his own denial of fully experiencing the warmth and moisture of that divine orifice, another drop of pre-cum welled up from Sephiroth and shimmied ever closer to cascading off. With an exasperated glare and building fret, he rapidly removed his finger from the other’s mouth, making a rather obnoxious, wet, popping sound, and leaving Sephiroth looking rather disappointed and unfulfilled.  
  
Cloud just barely reached the drop in time, the pad of his finger catching the viscous liquid as it fell from the head to patter into a bead upon the leather.  
  
_How is he still not locked down?_  
  
_Did the cord or chain snap and lose the tension?_  
  
Cloud scanned the excessive preparation once again, but it looked completely sound. And if he made it any tighter, he would fear for the circulation. He was already worried because there was no safe word.  
  
_Why can’t I get a solid handle on things?_  
  
_Why does it feel like I have been playing catch up this entire time?_  
  
Due to Cloud being befuddled and trying to best plan his next steps, he almost missed the expectant and impatient attention Sephiroth was giving his hand.  
  
Noticing his client’s need a bit later than he would have liked, he stood to loom over Sephiroth and once again dipped his finger into the man’s mouth, this time with the second drop of seed lingering upon it. Now knowing that his client enjoyed this attention, he decided to be more forceful. The hand still buried deep in silver hair gripped fiercely and tilted his head further back while Cloud bore his finger down into Sephiroth’s mouth repetitively.  
  
Steely blue glared intently at his charge; slitted green looked up hazily and unfocused with contentment.  
  
Sephiroth’s tongue worked over his finger this time, curling and sweeping across the soft leather in between the powerful, domineering downward presses Cloud gave it. A second finger snaked in to join the first, and with both present, Sephiroth’s tongue stilled as Cloud pinned it down assertively. He held him for an extended period like this, with firm pressure on the back of his head and upon his tongue, commanding authority over him with silent dominion.  
  
Sephiroth suckled Cloud’s fingers softly; his heavy-lidded eyes taking on a pacified quality.  
  
_He has enjoyed everything so far. You are choosing well. It’s probably not an issue that some things slipped from your control._  
  
His mind’s encouragement was instantly soured as a persistent third pre-cum droplet threatened to spill upon the expensive flooring. Cloud moved his boot in time so that the tiny tear spattered upon it instead.  
  
_Something should be done about this._  
  
When Cloud removed his fingers from Sephiroth’s welcoming mouth, the older man appeared sated but inquisitive and his eyes sharpened as they followed Cloud’s movements to his duffle bag. He repositioned himself on a knee next to Sephiroth and leaned over to retrieve a lengthy stretch of clear, slender, and hollow tubing along with a small tube of lubricating gel. A dry washcloth was also removed from his bag and used to clean the small drop that fell upon his boot before it was brushed over the tip of Sephiroth’s length to ensure that it too was cleaned.  
  
There were a few ways to safeguard unauthorized spilling, but the one Cloud was planning to use was the surest way; it was also the most pleasurable if done correctly and the most painful if done incorrectly.  
  
A copious amount of lubricant was applied to a long stretch of the clear tubing, and afterward, he rubbed his fingers across the cloth to remove the excess. Cloud bent down towards Sephiroth once again, his gloved thumb gently toying with the small slit opening upon the man’s flushed and swollen head. After coaxing it open, the end of the lubricated, hollow tube was slipped gently inside and slowly pushed in an inch. Cloud was rewarded with a soft shudder from his client.  
  
Cloud watched the other with growing dark delight, admiring his handiwork that fully constricted him as he carefully and gradually slid the tube in another inch and then another still. He stalled to allow the other to adjust as a left hand roamed overstretched and engorged flesh, testing the restraints, fingers playing across Sephiroth’s shaft gently, applying delicate pressure.  
  
Sephiroth was a wonder to behold as he mildly trembled. Cloud was captivated by his beauty under blissful duress, nearly hypnotized by his gradually increasing reactions. After gauging the additional length needed to fill him, more tubing was guided deep inside the shaft until Cloud was satisfied. Sephiroth eased out a small, labored gasp of both pleasure and discomfort, the first vocal sound he thus far uttered.  
  
The remaining span of the meter-long tube hung from him and unceremoniously curled on the floor, waiting to catch any drip or ejaculation that may exit him. And it seemed the insertion was already aiding Cloud’s efforts as he noticed a small amount of opaque liquid gathering where flexible tube met flesh.  
  
Sephiroth’s breathing was less rhythmic now and a bit shallower, his green eyes trained on the length of clear piping that filled him mercilessly and exited him in a long coil.  
  
Cloud seized the tube at the entry point at Sephiroth’s tip and began to slowly pump it back and forth. It easily glided deep into the man’s shaft and out once again due to Cloud’s careful preparation, the lubrication making the friction negligible.  
  
“ _Nnrgh_ ,” Sephiroth moaned softly.  
  
The pace was gradually increased, and so was the depth Cloud was willing to slide in that tube. He was looking for a particular reaction as he did so, and it did not take long until he received it. Sephiroth’s entire body suddenly spasmed in ecstasy before he slowly tilted his head backward and eased out a low, heady groan. _There_ , Cloud knew what he found. He had managed to push deep enough into the urethra to touch Sephiroth’s prostate, _from the inside_. It was a very, _very_ different experience than having the prostate massaged through the rectum wall.  
  
With another minute of expert attention, giving feathery touches up and down Sephiroth’s bound member and dragging that tube in and out like a conquering piston, there cascaded a gentle and soft orchestra of soothing moans as Cloud delicately pulled out an assortment of whimpers and cries of pleasure from his client.  
  
_Gaia… he is magnificent._  
  
Cloud could not help but fiendishly drink in all of that benign euphoria, reveling in the way Sephiroth’s gorgeous muscles tightened and rippled, straining against the myriad of sensations, how his thighs and arms quivered under their self-imposed bondage, how his closed eyelids fluttered with lashes so long they looked like tiny, silver butterflies, how his length twitched and jolted with exertion against the bindings that restricted it; the whole, overwhelming collection of gorgeous divinity on display made Cloud lust for him in ways he had not felt in ages, and that eroticism shone heavily in blue eyes and played across his lips. A small, wicked smile formed.  
  
_Oh, there is so much more I want to show you, Sephiroth._


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey!” Zack waved energetically.  
  
When Sephiroth completely ignored him and focused on his meal selection at the Shinra headquarter’s floor 61 cafeteria line, Zack happily ran up and boldly interjected himself right in front of Sephiroth, interrupting his concentration and partially blocking access to his plate and tray.  
  
It was annoying, and it definitely made it more difficult to select his food choices, but if Zack thought this intrusion would demand Sephiroth’s sole attention or that Sephiroth could not work around him, he was sorely mistaken. Sephiroth reached both of his arms around Zack’s waist and leaned in very close, wisps of silver hair draping over the other’s shoulders, and trapping the shorter man up against his crisp, button-down dress shirt – he only wore his regalia when he was on a mission, on call, on duty, or during photoshoots. This action freed up his hands and allowed him to continue to pluck and scoop his lunch options without hindrance, with Zack nestled like a doll between his arms.  
  
He did not mean for it to be sexual, especially since Zack had forced his hand, but he certainly picked up on the faint blush that cascaded across the bridge of the other man’s nose, and how Zack’s heart rate accelerated. Very little ever escaped Sephiroth’s notice. But as per usual when confronted with lascivious colleagues, associates, and admirers, he paid their lusty attention no mind.  
  
Despite their intimate closeness, Zack was not discouraged from enthusiastically asking impertinent questions.  
  
“You got a date or something? You have this energy about you today. It’s subtle, but I picked up on it.”  
  
Today was the agreed-upon meeting day with the professional dominant that he had discreetly hired.  
  
“It is nothing so traditional as that.”  
  
“Ooooo… what is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Perhaps I will tell you, perhaps I will not.”  
  
“Damn! Seriously? You’re holding out on me, Seph.”  
  
“Run along, Zack,” Sephiroth casually dismissed him.  
  
“Pft…” Zack disengaged himself from Sephiroth and scurried over to grab his own plate and tray combination.  
  
With lunch in hand, he carried his tray to the seating area where familiar faces were already gathered. Now came the socially troublesome choice of where to sit and with whom. Zack was quick to follow him while carrying his own tray of food.  
  
A meal was such a simple thing, rather unimportant to his life save for the nutrients it provided, and if left to his own devices, he would sit silently by himself, eat at a relatively brisk pace, and then be finished. But the others, those that he worked with and those that he shared experiences with, viewed a meal as a time to socialize. He had never given any of them any indication that he preferred or even enjoyed sitting with them while he ate, but it seemed that if he did not sit with them, they tended to congregate around him instead. It was unavoidable.  
  
Each circular, wooden table in the cafeteria contained six red chairs, and his options were limited to two distinct groups vying for his attention. Sephiroth scanned the layout before him: to his left was a table with the Turks consisting of Reno, Rude, Elena with two empty seats on either side of Tseng, and to his right was a table with Angeal and Genesis, both separated by a chair.  
  
The all-important (clearly insignificant) decision of which group to select to sit with was spiritlessly put behind him with much boredom as his thoughts drifted back to Zack’s earlier inquiry.  
  
Sephiroth was not completely against sharing his experiences of his more adventurous sexual exploits as a submissive with those he may consider as friends – if only there was something worthy to share. In contrast, his _dominant_ dabbling into the underground genre could be illustrated with more confidence, but would likely surprise no one, and worse, spark everyone’s imagination and undulate him with countless questions and sultry stares. So, his experimental participation in the scene, which had been conducted only to clarify his own curiosity, had so far gone unnoticed by his colleagues, because honestly, it would be too annoying to tell them. It had nothing to do with embarrassment or shame, it just was not where his true passion belonged. Thus, he was uninspired to talk about it.  
  
The few times that he had practiced as a dominant were unsatisfying, at least for him. His clients all broke almost immediately. It was very reminiscent of nearly every battlefield he had ever been a part of. There was no challenge to it, and it left him unfulfilled. He knew from discussing it anonymously on various hidden forums and websites that the pleasure of a dominant came from giving the submissive a memorable experience and reveling in the intoxicating feeling of control and power over another person. But Sephiroth owned that feeling every waking moment of his life. He was strength incarnate, there was no point in denying it by baseless humility, no point lying to himself about the truth. He was the dominant alpha male and apex predator in every single room he has ever entered. He did not need to reinforce what he lived every day.  
  
He wanted to feel something different for a change.  
  
It was actually unfortunate that he hemorrhaged dominance from every pore because his _submissive_ foray into the wider world of bondage was thus far an objective failure. He did not even have embarrassing misadventures to narrate because no one had ever even got past his front door threshold.  
  
Mistakes had been made early on in his attempts to court a dominant, that was for certain. The very first time he had tried setting up a session, he had dropped his name during the initial contact phone call; that had been a huge blunder. The dominant had hung up on him immediately. Sephiroth apparently had not learned his lesson because during the second call he made he had also dropped his name. The dominant on the other end had accused him of lying and wasting his time before hanging up.  
  
For his third try, he had decided to keep his alias a secret, and when the dominant opened the door to his apartment and saw Sephiroth patiently waiting, the other man had abruptly turned around and vanished down the hall, never to return. Sephiroth had then thought that perhaps these three men were cowards and that his mistake had been hiring dominants, but the dominatrix he had hired, supposedly the best in Midgar, was also unable to begin a session when she had arrived at the doorway to his loft. Although she too was unwilling to venture inside, at least she had been polite about it and apologized profusely. They chatted about a few things before she excused herself, but aside from the pleasant conversation, Sephiroth’s needs had not been met that day.  
  
Now, he was on his fifth try and needed some extra time to think about his approach. But before he could do that, he needed to find a seat.  
  
“Yo! Sephiroth, over here,” Reno shouted with no small degree of obnoxiousness while nodding his head over towards Angeal and Genesis. “You sat with those two assholes yesterday! Come sit with us, I wanted to chat with you about something.”  
  
Angeal smiled and took a silent sip of his drink.  
  
“I’m calling you out on your bullshit, Reno,” Genesis said with a smirk. “Goddess knows you have zero to talk to Sephiroth about.”  
  
“Hey, fuck you! I got plenty to talk about. You don’t even know!”  
  
Sephiroth along with Zack were still standing there awkwardly with their tray in hands when both Reno and Genesis pushed their chairs out, stood up quickly, and walked slowly towards each other aggressively, sizing one another up.  
  
“The two gingers are going at it,” Elena said with a sigh. “Does this even surprise anyone? They are so damn feisty _all the time_. Is it genetic? Do all redheads do this shit?”  
  
“Reno dyes his hair,” Rude said nonchalantly as he took a bite of his food.  
  
“Holy shit, for real? I didn’t know that,” Zack whispered, looking like his mind was blown.  
  
"Makes sense. That color is outlandish," Elena replied.  
  
Tseng looked the least bit bothered by the escalating situation – indifferent and calm like a Zen master – as he reviewed a document while elegantly spooning food without once removing his eyes from the reading material.  
  
Both Reno and Genesis drew so close to each other, that their chests were nearly touching. Sephiroth seriously doubted that either of them aimed to actually hurt the other, but there was certainly a challenge in the air.  
  
“You wanna have a go in the combat simulator?” Reno asked while gliding the tip of his tongue under the row of his upper teeth. “You’d get wrecked.”  
  
“Hardly,” Genesis said with a dark laugh. “I hope you’ve mastered your Restore materia. Third-degree burns can leave a nasty scar...”  
  
"Hello?! It's VR!" Reno exclaimed.  
  
"Oh, it is real enough," Genesis countered.  
  
_“Oh, shit_ …” Zack nearly squeaked.  
  
This bit of feather-ruffling was none of his concern, but their irritating display was easy enough to diffuse. Sephiroth simply took a seat to the left of Tseng.  
  
“You wanted to speak to me about something, Reno?” Sephiroth asked with disinterest.  
  
“Oh! You absolutely know it!” Reno said with a grin before brushing past Genesis, but not without rudely pushing his shoulder into the legitimate redhead’s arm.  
  
Zack was quick to take the other empty seat next to Tseng and Elena, leaving the two other Firsts out in the cold, but they were nothing if not resourceful and tenacious. Genesis looked like he wanted to ambush the scrappy Turk that slighted him, but he opted instead to gather his tray and chair from the other table. Angeal also picked up his tray, along with his chair, and carried it over to the Turk table. All the chairs were taken, but there was more room to be had. Angeal squeezed in between Zack and Tseng while Genesis threw down his chair like the fiery soul that he was and forcefully wedged himself right between Reno and Rude.  
  
Surrounded by such an outspoken and unique group led Sephiroth to briefly consider his acquaintances as potential dominant confidants with varying degrees of scrutiny. He decided to go clockwise around the table and discreetly appraise them. He had always assumed he needed to go elsewhere for a dominant capable of claiming him, but seeing all of these brazen individuals seated at one table made him realize that he never gave honest thought to look in his own backyard first before outsourcing.  
  
Reno was an intriguing choice. He was rambunctious, lively, bold, and had a strong spirit that also surprisingly hinted at a deep-seeded sense of humanity and empathy. But his spunkiness might devolve into playfulness in the dominant role, and that was not what Sephiroth was looking for. There was also a question if there was any relationship between Reno and Rude. Sephiroth was not interested in being a homewrecker and putting any sort of strain on the working relationships of this important circle.  
  
Genesis actually made a lot of sense. The man was not his equal, but he wanted to be. Genesis wanted to succeed Sephiroth, to surpass him, to be the world’s next ‘hero’. That sort of strong rivalry would make for a compelling dominant, and no doubt would Genesis bring an intensity and a passion to the match that could nearly outshine his own. He would want to make Sephiroth beg, motivated by his own pride and desires. But Genesis was an arrogant hero chaser, and his motivations would be entirely self-serving and selfish. The man’s vain ego, some of it deserved, some of it not, did not need any more stroking.  
  
Rude was another logical choice. He was stoic, strong, loyal, tough, and unfaltering. He permeated confidence and control as one would want in a dominant. It was highly likely he could easily detach himself from the situation and perform in a way that Sephiroth needed, filling a role that barely deviated from Rude’s everyday existence of radiating strength. Another bonus was that Rude barely overlapped his own circles, making it less awkward for them both and allowing them to continue their duties unimpeded if a ‘working relationship’ between them ever formed. And aside from Tseng, Rude appeared to be the most professional of them all, likely able to perform in any capacity in a serious manner. If this… Cloud Strife did not work out, Sephiroth mulled about asking Rude if he may be interested. The only issue here was Reno once again. If there was a relationship between Reno and Rude, Sephiroth would pull back.  
  
Elena, the one brazen woman in a group full of bristling men, all jostling for dominance. Sephiroth had already attempted to court a dominatrix, so he was fine with the idea of a woman controlling him. Elena’s merits were obvious straight from the start. She was fearless, witty, and resolute enough to handle an environment smothered with testosterone. She interjected herself boldly into the group and carried herself unabashedly, but also provided that gentle, feminine touch that is hard to describe but immediately noticed when present. All of the other Turks not present at this table, some women, many men, were not courageous enough to do what Elena did, to make herself available and become a part of their exclusive circle. That was real strength, not fake put-on-displays like most attempts around here. The issue was that she seemed smitten with Tseng, overly loyal and eager to please him, perhaps even a fangirl. Sephiroth was not sure if she could perform in the way he needed her to.  
  
Ah, Zack. He was cute, but no. Just no. He was overly playful, energetic, with child-like wonder and an innocence about him that could never pass for Sephiroth’s purposes. Not worth dwelling on. Besides, Angeal probably would not appreciate Sephiroth corrupting his protégé.  
  
Now, Angeal held real promise. He had all the strength and qualities that would make him an excellent dominant. His honorable nature would prevent him from ever overstepping. Angeal also had a tender side to him, a gentleness that would make for very compassionate aftercare, something that Sephiroth was not yet sure if he needed, but if it were something that he needed, Angeal’s likely delicate, and soothing concern would be more than welcomed. Angeal was also the only one that Sephiroth truly trusted. One would think that would be perfect for putting oneself in such a helpless situation and role, but it also made it vastly difficult for Sephiroth to envision the situations proceeding after the session when any sort of awkwardness crept in. He had to work closely with Angeal very often. He did not want anything to get in the way of their friendship.  
  
Tseng was another curious choice. Sephiroth envisioned Tseng as someone who could switch between a dominant and submissive role without too much issue, molding himself to whatever was needed of him and doing so professionally. Tseng, like himself, was already at the seat of power within his division and was used to handling delicate situations. Would Tseng consider Sephiroth’s desire for a dominant to be a delicate situation that needed assistance and a remedy? Would Tseng be willing to be that remedy? It was something to ponder.  
  
But ultimately, Sephiroth felt that it was probably for the best that he outsourced his dominant request, even before analyzing his local choices. They were such a unique working group with Tseng putting in the effort to foster healthy teamwork and social bonding. The last thing Sephiroth wanted was to be the one that fractured them.  
  
Sephiroth’s thoughts were interrupted.  
  
“Sephiroth, so... we were all talking before you showed up, and we were kinda in agreement that something is up with you today. Not like, bad or anything, but something different. Ya know?” Reno asked, a bit shyly, though he tried to play it off with a cool air.  
  
Sephiroth had to silently admit that all their perceptions were impressively high. He thought he was shrewdly hiding any sort of obvious indication of his excitement. Apparently not well enough.  
  
“Sephiroth has a date tonight!” Zack erupted.  
  
Everyone, save Tseng, turned to stare intense lasers at Sephiroth.  
  
“ _Please_ tell me it’s someone here,” Elena stated with a huge grin.  
  
“I might have hired a professional,” Sephiroth tactically interjected before anyone could wildly guess at who at this table he had a ‘date’ with. It did not bother him that his answer opened avenues for new questions and conjecture.  
  
“A prostitute,” Angeal threw out like a fisherman.  
  
Zack coughed up a little bit of his drink back into his cup.  
  
“No,” Sephiroth replied.  
  
“It’s got to be a honeybee, right?” Reno asked.  
  
“No.”  
  
“A dominatrix,” Rude said thoughtfully.  
  
“Oh Gaia…” Elena whispered, her cheeks starting to flush.  
  
“No.”  
  
“A dominant,” Genesis said confidently.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Ha! I knew it.”  
  
“Of course. Wait… WHAT?!” Reno nearly choked on his own tongue.  
  
“No way… there’s no way…” Elena covered her face in embarrassment.  
  
That was when Tseng lowered the folder he was reading and quietly looked on with interest, the first time he had done so in the last ten minutes.  
  
“The Silver Elite would kill for that information,” Zack said with eyes the size of saucers.  
  
“You are not going to tell them,” Sephiroth stated firmly.  
  
“Of course not, I’m just saying!”  
  
“No one would believe it anyway,” Rude said.  
  
“Agreed,” Angeal smiled.  
  
“How the hell did Genesis know?” Elena blurted out.  
  
“I didn’t. It was an educated guess.”  
  
“A while back, there was a small, suspicious selection of individuals that came in and out quickly through our residential floor over the course of a few days,” Angeal added. “I had taken notice.”  
  
“Heh.” Genesis flicked a confirmatory motion to Angeal. “Didn’t stop you from asking if he hired a prostitute though.”  
  
“There was more than one possible explanation. I was narrowing it down."  
  
“Wait, I have an apartment up there too. Was I the only one that didn’t notice?” Zack asked with a blink. “Dang, I must have been with Aerith,” he said while crossing his arms with a pout.  
  
“Hold up, you said ‘a while back’ and ‘individuals’. This isn’t the first time?!” Reno gasped.  
  
“Came in and out quickly, you say? I have to assume Sephiroth made quick work out of them,” Elena said with the biggest grin, she looked so flushed she appeared feverish.  
  
“They never had the courage to even step into the loft,” Sephiroth declared.  
  
The entire table erupted into laughter save Sephiroth who was now preoccupied with eating his lunch.  
  
“ _What the fuck_ ,” Reno gasped, wiping tears away after having laughed for a good while. “This shit is gold! Sephiroth! You have got to let me know how this goes down!” Reno declared enthusiastically.  
  
Tseng had a thoughtful expression on his face that Sephiroth picked up on.  
  
“I have not told Lazard,” Sephiroth said, addressing Tseng.  
  
When Tseng spoke, everyone listened.  
  
“I am not concerned about division or company image here. I already assume this does not leave the table. My interests regarding this lie elsewhere. I would like for you to update me after your meeting.”  
  
“I’m curious too,” Angeal smirked.  
  
“Same,” Genesis chimed in.  
  
“I can’t be the only one that doesn’t know again!” Zack exclaimed.  
____________________________________________________________________________

It was ten minutes before his appointment and Sephiroth was no closer to figuring out what behavior to change from his previous failures to ensure that his dominant did not run off like a scared, skittish small animal when he set eyes upon him. It was a confounding dilemma. Sephiroth had considered tying up his hair and wearing a mask to disguise his identity, but all that hassle for a falsity only frustrated him. He wanted to be dominated _despite_ who he was.  
  
_Was that desire an impossible one?_  
  
He had almost given up. After his fourth failure, Sephiroth had fallen into a deep funk, discouraged beyond measure, and had stopped looking at bondage websites entirely. But that nagging need for a singular, memorable experience kept haunting him, and he found himself scouring the net once again. It had taken some time, but he had stumbled across a name by chance and began following the career of a relatively unknown dominant named _Cloud Strife._  
  
What a perfect name for the profession. It had struck him immediately. It had to be a stage name. Sephiroth watched Strife’s career slowly blossom, his name slowly creeping up across the dark internet, being mentioned more frequently in hushed chat rooms and forum channels. It was not too long before Cloud Strife was considered among many circles to be premium dominant. He could not find a picture, but he found his website when Strife finally made one, and what a treasure trove of services he offered.  
  
_Incredible._  
  
Sephiroth had jumped on the opportunity to hire him, having followed his ascent like waiting for fine wine to ferment with age. He had checked all of the boxes because he was hoping this dominant could at least do one of those services, do something, _do anything_ on that list. There was a hunger, there was a desperate need, and perhaps if he gave Strife the freedom to do as he pleased, then perhaps, _just perhaps_ , something would come of it!  
  
_Something!_  
  
_Just. One. Thing. At least!!_  
  
_Gaia… what do I have to do to keep them from running..._  
  
In preparation, Sephiroth had thoroughly cleaned himself in and out. He knew what to do, though he felt he would be fortunate if the dominant even managed to touch him. Even taking more than a few steps inside his loft would be a vast improvement.  
  
His PHS rang, the call coming from the front desk.  
  
“Cloud Strife is on his way to see you, sir,” the receptionist pleasantly said.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
_Finally._  
  
There were no other preparations he needed to make. He had stripped himself of all clothing and only wore a loose bathrobe for ease of comfort and removal. His last remaining action was to sit and patiently await Cloud Strife.  
  
Sephiroth agonized over his decisions and pondered if he chose correctly. He had kept his identity a secret again. He feared that Cloud, like all the others, would tremble upon entering, but what could Sephiroth do? He had no other options he could think of except to be visible and confront the dominant as soon as the other man entered.  
  
A keycard was passed through the reader to his door.  
  
The door opened.  
  
Sephiroth held his breath.  
  
What entered the threshold was nothing he would have ever expected.  
  
_He is so small and petite. He looks so young. He is… beautiful.  
  
Do not frighten him, he is like a tiny, fearful creature.  
  
Let him come to you, like you are feeding a pigeon from your hand.  
  
No…! He was startled and dropped his bag!  
  
Silent. Still. Do not move. Do not even breathe.  
  
He is looking through his bag.  
  
He is overwhelmed and starstruck but…  
  
He has not left yet!  
  
Alright, breathe now, but slowly.  
  
Don’t you dare scare him away!  
  
He is frightened and nervous, but he is managing.  
  
He is removing his street clothes. He is very well built for his small frame. The harness fits him nicely and the chains are a nice touch. He is a compelling mix of elegant features and masculine leather. Cloud has gorgeous eyes. They waver with awe and uncertainty, but at the same time, they glimmer with determination and resolve. There is strength there.  
  
Something… might actually happen.  
  
Let me ensure that it does. I will start the session._  
  
Sephiroth disrobed and dropped to his knees before Cloud.  
  
_Cloud is unsure. Concerned about the lack of restraints?_  
  
_You know I could easily break them. There would be no point. I will willingly submit to you completely. Is this option not more erotic? More sensual?  
  
I will hold your positions like iron._  
  
Cloud pressed the sole of his boot into Sephiroth’s inner right leg.  
  
_He is testing. I am compliant._  
  
Sephiroth’s leg yielded to the pressure and he spread it further out by the other’s demand. Cloud pressed upon his left leg that also yielded. He then soundlessly demanded Sephiroth clasp his forearms behind his back, tilt his head backward, and close his eyes. All were followed without question.  
  
Cloud’s warning to him was strong but he could sense the fear in him.  
  
_I will not hurt you; I promise._  
  
Cloud vowed to make him moan under his severe desperation.  
  
_His rules… his dark pledge… Oh… how precious._  
  
_Try to take my power if you can. I’m waiting, Cloud._


End file.
